The Witcher
by Riordan Fan 1990
Summary: A Short Story based on the Witcher 3 cinematic trailer.


**Hey guys! This is Small story I wrote for the Witcher. Not really my best work, but I am putting it out there, for your judgment. Please give me your opinion guys. Happy Reading!**

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" _Wolves asleep amidst the trees…._ " Sang the woman, with a solemn voice, as she walked in the moonlight. "… _thats all a swaying in the breeze_ "

" _But once soul lays anxious wide awake_ …" The moonlight shimmered off the lake as she bent down to pick up a doll. "… _Fearing all manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths_."

"Nice tune." A gruff voice said behind the woman. "Been a while since I heard it last."

Sighing the woman turned to face the Witcher. He looked tired, scars adorning his face, courtesy of all the monsters he had hunted. He was dressed in chainmail, one of his swords drawn. The symbols etched on it glowed faintly.

"Folk have forgotten it." She said staring at the sword.

The Witcher regarded her carefully. "Got other things on their mind." He said.

The woman let down her fiery red hair and under the moon light her face shimmered and was replaced by that of a young girl, her face, an epitome of beauty and innocence.

"Things like me." She said, removing the scarf from around her neck. Seeing her face, the Witcher sighed quietly.

"They paid me for you."

"Times have passed." The girl smiled innocently, unbuttoning her cloak. "No Witcher is bold enough to take this contract." Her voice turned into a sneer.

"Times have changed." The Witcher said pointing his sword at the girl.

As the cloak fell from her shoulders and the bare skin of her arms bathed in the moonlight she turned into the wind and rushed past the Witcher into the barn.

"A wraith." The he muttered to himself. "I should have asked for twice the pay."

Shaking his head he reached into his pack and took out the firewater. Knowing full well how close it put him to death, he uncorked it and drank. As the effect of the potion set on him he crushed the bottle. Screaming into the night air and sending the birds around the barn flying, he fell to the ground. Crawling on the ground struggling to get up, he saw a drop of his blood fall from his nose to the ground, leaving it a charred mess.

Slowly getting on his feet, he drew his silver sword and slowly crept into the barn. He cautiously looked into the shadows, his breath coming out as smoke. Reaching behind him he grabbed the silver dust from his pack, and spotting the wraiths movement in the shadows he threw the dust at it.

The invisible wraith now covered in silver, screamed in rage and flew at him. He dodged and parried all its strikes but to no avail. The wraith was fast and it was stronger. It cut at him with its claws and sunk them deep into his abdomen, finally revealing its nightmarishly true self, bathed in his blood.

Grunting he tried to get up but was struck down again, as it turned invisible.

Picking up his sword from the ground and, all tactics forgotten, the Witcher flailed it around him, like a mad man. But when the wraith appeared behind him, it was too late. Pulling back his chainmail, it sunk its poisoned teeth deep into his neck and sucked.

Arms flailing the Witcher fell to the ground and looked up at the smiling face of the wraith. But soon, even he too had a smile on his face, even though he could feel the poison seeping into his veins. As he watched the smile on the wraiths face turned into a scream as she clawed at her neck. His blood was burning it from the inside. Pushing himself up, he swung his sword, cutting off its arm.

"Igni" he muttered, pointing his hands at the screaming wraith. His fire spell caught it square on the chest and sent it flying. As the beast scampered wildly, trying to escape, the Witcher slowly pulled his crossbow from his back and fired.

As the bolt struck its mark, the wraith scampered out the barn and fell dead in the moonlight. Soon the horrendous face was replaced by the face of the young girl the wraith had consumed. The Witcher, now week and bleeding, dropped his sword and cross bow, crept across the barn and laid on the floor.

"Maybe this is it." He wondered. "Maybe I can finally find peace." He muttered as darkness overtook him.

But the Witcher had no such luck. As the morning sun rose, he woke up with a start. The poison had worn off. He was not human after all. He sighed sadly at the floor. Would he ever find peace he wondered?

Wiping the blood from his face, the Witcher looked at the dead wraith. The sun had burned it, leaving a skeleton covered in burnt flesh behind. Slowly the Witcher got up, and collected his weapons. As he hacked away at the head of the wraith, tied it to his horse and rode to the city to claim his reward, the rest of the poem played in his mind.

 _"Birds are silent for the night,_

 _Cows turned in as daylight dies_

 _But once soul lays anxious wide awake_

 _For the Witcher, Brave and Bold,_

 _Paid in coin of gold;_

 _He'll chop and slice you,_

 _Cut and dice you,_

 _Eat you up whole._

 _Eat. You. Whole."_

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 **If you liked that please let me know. If you hated it please tell me why. If you want me to change it in any way to make it better, any tips to improve my writing please don't hesitate. I love reading all comments even if they are criticisms. They do make me a better writer. I hope you have a good day, or night. Happy Reading!**


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